Keep This Our Secret
by Staple
Summary: HPOW. It was a beautiful starry night, but Harry wasn't prepared for what was to happen. He wasn't prepared for the events that would change his life. He loved another, but was that love enough to keep Oliver out of his life and out of his heart?
1. Chapter 1

"It's getting rather late, don't you think?" Harry Potter asked as he pulled the sleeves of his black sweater over his hands and crossed them over his chest to keep them warm. It had been a very nice day, but as the sun sank toward the horizon, it was getting rather chilly.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," replied Oliver Wood, who was directly to his left. It was Harry's fourth year, and Oliver had graduated from Hogwarts the year before, but he had come back to check up on his team. The two of them has spent all afternoon walking around the grounds of the school and had ended up lying on their backs in the spongy grass where they currently were. Of all the people to come back for a visit, Harry never supposed it would be Oliver, but he was glad the other came. The Quidditch team had been like a family to him with Oliver as their leader and adviser.

"But you know, Potter, I reckon you'd make a right good Captain someday," Oliver said as he turned a bit on his side. "Angelina is a great Captain right now, but she wont be around forever."

Harry felt a little smile come to his face. "Yeah… yeah, I'd like that someday." As time went on, Quidditch became more and more important to him. He'd found that it was a great way to forget his horrible dreams and the fact that Voldemort was back. "Do you really think I'm good enough Oliver?"

"Certainly." In his peripheral view, Harry saw Oliver give an affirming nod. "In fact, I can't think of anyone I would rather be in charge of the Gryffindor team." Harry turned his head to meet Oliver's heartfelt smile. He could tell by the little smile lines that appeared around the older boy's eyes when he smiled that he meant what he said.

"Sometimes I wish nothing else existed beyond Quidditch," Harry confessed as he turned his head back to looking up at the darkening sky. "I wish I could just fly high above the ground hunting snitches for the rest of my life, and not have to worry about school or evil wizards, or being wrongfully placed in the Triwizard Tournament, but no, we're not even having Quidditch this year…" He trailed off when he realized his hands were clenching into balls. He was only succeeding in upsetting himself. He looked sheepishly over at his friend. "I bet that sounds rather selfish of me, doesn't it?"

"Oh no, Potter. I think I know exactly what you mean," Oliver replied. "It's a way to forget about what you've got going on… forget about who you _are_." By the dreamy way Oliver's voice had become, Harry figured Oliver was talking about himself… Although he couldn't imagine the Puddlemere United player having anything to escape from.

Craning his neck a bit, Harry looked toward the looming stone structure that was the Hogwarts castle. The sky and mountains behind it were beginning to blend into one, and the lighted school windows were becoming more prominent. He had never really spent much time out on the Hogwarts grounds, but found that he liked being at one with the nature around him. Moving his hands off his chest, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, his fingers digging into the cool blades of grass.

"I'm happy that you got onto the Puddlemere team," he said after a long, lazy moment of silence. "You're a very good Quidditch player."

"You should try out for a team when you get out of school, Potter," the other said as he moved to rest his arms behind his head. He was wearing one of his turtleneck knitted sweaters, which Harry thought looked elegant on him. Harry could never pull off a look like that.

"That's a tempting thought, Oliver," Harry said a bit wistfully. There was nothing he would like more, but he felt that life was calling him in a different direction. No, _duty_ was calling him in a different direction. For as long as he and Voldemort were alive, his duty would be to fighting dark witches and wizards. Harry blinked up at the sky again. It was a near inky black now. Before Harry had come to Hogwarts, he had never known the sky could be such a brilliant blue during the day and such a deep black at night. He was used to the Dursley neighborhood where all the orange streetlights prevented one from seeing the sky clearly.

"The stars are coming out," Harry observed. "I think I should probably head back up to the castle now." He moved to get up from his laying position, but found himself stopped by one of Oliver's hands. As he turned to look at the former Quidditch captain, he was shocked to find the other's face so close to his own. He was about to ask what was up, but hesitated when he saw the way Oliver was looking at him. Dark brown eyes searched his as soft lips slowly lowered themselves onto Harry's. Before he knew it, he was kissing his old Quidditch captain with passion in his soul and longing in his heart. Oliver's hand went to rest on his side, and heat seemed to radiate from his palm and fingers, warming Harry's own flesh.

And as Harry pulled back from the kiss, he realized what it was that Oliver wanted to forget about.

A/N: More is on the way. Thank you for reading, please review.

**Staple**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: For the purpose of my plotline, I am making the Yule Ball before holiday vacation instead of on Christmas day like it is in the book.

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**3 Months Later**

As the year progressed, Harry completely forgot about the events between Oliver and him. Being involuntarily selected for the Triwizard Tournament could do that to a person. Besides, it had only been that one little kiss, nothing more. It seemed a bit like a dream now. Although, there _had_ been a moment in late September that brought Harry's mind back to the ex-Quidditch captain. He was sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast when the mail came. A few kids along the table paid for their copies of the Daily Prophet, but Harry hadn't paid them any mind until Fred and George burst out laughing.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded from beside Harry as he leaned forward to look down the table where the twins were huddled over a section in the paper.

"See for yourself," Fred said with a snort of laughter as he cast the paper toward his younger brother. Ron caught it and opened to the page they were looking at.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, his eyes rising to meet those of his brother's.

"I know, quite the shock isn't it?" Fred said knowingly as he goosed George with his elbow. "What did I tell you, eh? Didn't I tell you he was always staring at my buns in the changing rooms?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded as he grabbed the paper from Ron. He glanced down and was surprised to be greeted with a picture of none other than Oliver Wood kissing some guy Harry had never seen before. The article below it was a short segment on Oliver and some bloke who was now his husband.

"Bryce Lowry? Never heard of him," Hermione joined in, who was also looking at a copy of the paper.

"He's the new manager for Puddlemere United," George informed her as he snatched the paper back from Harry. "Which could be why it made the papers. Never knew our old Oliver was such a fruitcake, did we Fred?"

"No," Fred returned gleefully and proceeded to make several rude, sexual jokes that involved broomsticks and places where the sun didn't shine. By the time he was done, the whole table was roaring with laughter and people were tossing in provocative jokes of their own. Harry managed a few chuckles, but quickly excused himself and went back up to the common room where he could be alone and think about what had just happened. Sure, the ex-Quidditch captain had kissed him once, but Harry hadn't thought that meant for sure that Oliver was gay. However, the news in the Prophet changed all of that.

But that was months ago, and the news of Oliver being gay quickly fled everyone's minds when they found out Harry was a fourth contestant in the Tournament. Between classes, homework, fighting dragons, and being on non-speaking terms with Ron, Harry could hardly remember his own name. Even after the dragons and returning to speaking terms with his best friend again, Harry was still overwhelmed. The Yule Ball was coming up fast, and after being rejected by Cho, Harry had managed to talk Ginny into going with him. She had been very shy at first, but had agreed, and after Harry thought about it more, he was glad he was going with her and not Cho.

The Ball had gone much better than Harry had anticipated. Of course, Ron was furious (and shocked) that Hermione turned up with Victor Krum, but Harry figured he was only bitter because he was stuck with Padma Patil. When Ron and Hermione began to bicker over Hermione's choice in a date, Harry and Ginny excused themselves and went out to the dance floor. That was when Harry decided he loved her very much. He liked the feel of her arms around his shoulder and was more than happy to pull her closer during the slower songs. Having never grown up with a loving family, Harry found that he longed for any sort of physical touch. He could have stayed on that dance floor with Ginny for the rest of his life, but like all good things in life, the night eventually ended and each of them retired to their dormitories.

The next day, Harry awoke early to see his friends off for the long break. Hermione was going home to spend the holidays with her parents, and the Weasley's were taking another family vacation. Harry was disappointed that he would be spending Christmas by himself, but he figured he could use the alone time. He still needed to figure out the egg clue.

Harry headed back up to the Gryffindor common room alone. He entered the room after giving the password, and, assuming it would be empty since nearly everyone had left for the holidays, proceeded straight toward the stone staircase. He was shocked to be stopped by a soft voice saying, "hello Potter."

Harry leapt nearly a foot in the air as he whirled around to meet that all too familiar Scottish accent. "Oliver! Merlin's _beard_, don't _scare_ me like that." He clutched at his chest a bit, willing his breathing to slow down. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Oliver smiled a bit, flashing perfect white teeth in the younger boy's direction. "I came to say Merry Christmas to my favorite Quidditch player, of course." He moved to stand behind one of the winged chairs, bracing himself with his arms on the back of the chair as he studied Harry. "Besides, I miss this place." His eyes darted around the common room longingly for a moment. The sleeves of his red turtleneck were pulled up to his elbows, and Harry found himself observing the way the muscles in Oliver's forearms stood out in powerful cords on one side and were smooth and pale on the other.

"You never realize what a pain it is to grow up until you finally have to do it," Oliver continued, his eyes still wandering lazily around the room. Harry detected something in them he had seen months ago when they were laying in the grass. Oliver had a good attitude about everything, but his eyes betrayed a deep sadness and longing. Harry looked down at the small silver band inlaid with a single sapphire gem that was wrapped around Oliver's finger.

"Well, you're married and stuff, aren't you? Surely that was a happy moment."

Oliver held his hand up to observe the wedding ring. He chuckled a bit, "Yes. Yes, I suppose you're right Harry, but marrying Bryce was more of a business matter than anything. You don't honestly think anyone makes it onto the Puddlemere team simply by being able to fly well, do you?"

"But… does that mean that you're not really…?" Harry began uncertainly.

"Oh no," Oliver quickly interjected. "I'm still gay if that's what you're asking. But gay or straight, marriage isn't something you should rush into. You might," he hesitated for a moment, "you might just regret it when something better comes along. I sometimes think that I would be better off not being on the Puddlemere team just so that I might have the opportunity to be truly in love." Harry swallowed hard as Oliver's dark, clouded eyes rose to meet his own.


End file.
